The Guy in Green
by Windswift
Summary: [Two Skyward Sword Zelink ficlets written for Tumblr prompts "expectations" and "hold my hand"] Zelda is this close to rethinking some of her terrible life decisions. Past life decisions. Whatever. It's really all Link's fault anyway for being so very Link.


Disclaimer: I don't own _The Legend of Zelda_.

In my mind I remember some kind of Golden Age where I wrote lots of fic with beautiful titles and summaries that came easily, as if they were perfectly suited to the fics and described them well. If this era ever truly existed, it has been thoroughly decimated for a while now. Haha...

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**33 - expectations**

"Hm... Definitely not that one," Zelda says, pushing the bolt of blue fabric to the edge of the desk.

Gaepora frowns and rubs his chin. "Really? I thought that since we hadn't used a blue uniform in a few years... You don't like it?"

"Oh, no," Zelda says, "I like it very much. Which is why you're saving it for _my_ turn in the Wing Ceremony, Father." She folds the pale blue cloth into a fat, tidy square and hands it to him, grinning.

"Ah, I see." He drops it back into the basket on the floor and leans back in his chair. "As always, my dear, you present a very convincing argument. I knew you'd be a big help to me in picking out this year's uniform. Now then, what do you think of the white?"

Zelda wrinkles her nose. "White? That's not a practical choice at all! Those boys will never be able to keep it clean. You won't hear the end of it from Henya if you put a student in white."

Gaepora folds the fabric in half and plops that into the basket too. He dusts off his hands. "Goddess preserve me, I certainly don't want _that_ hanging over my head for years."

Zelda spreads the remaining choices across her father's desk, unfolding them and draping first one and then the other over her arm. She chews the inside of her lip while she tries to picture the finished uniforms.

"What do you think of the green?" she asks her father.

"Oh? I wasn't really sure about the shade, myself," he says, rubbing his chin again. A slow smile stretches his mouth as he considers it. "You think the green will look good on Link, then?"

"I- Father!" Zelda thumps her palm on the desk, her face flushing. "I didn't say that at all! And the headmaster shouldn't be picking favorites!"

Gaepora chuckles until his eyes crinkle up, and he waves a hand at his daughter. "Now, now, I know I shouldn't tease. But there's no reason for you to get so worked up." Zelda plants her hands on her hips and scowls at him, her ears still red. "I'm as proud of the boy as you are. It's only natural to think that Link might be our next senior student."

"I wasn't thinking about Link at all," Zelda says sharply, turning for the door. "I was just thinking that you can't possibly choose a red uniform, that's all. Imagine how badly it would clash."

Gaepora bends closer to look at the red cloth. "I suppose it _is_ about the same color as a Crimson Loftwing, now that you mention-"

"_With Groose's hair._"

The slam of his office door doesn't stop Gaepora's laughter.

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**35 - hold my hand**

The first thing Zelda says to Impa is: "Oh thank the goddess, you must be that chosen hero! Thank you for getting rid of those monsters, um, sorry for getting you involved in this whole mess, the old woman in the temple said you had things of your own to deal with, but see students aren't allowed to carry swords out of the sparring hall and she didn't have one for me to borrow and, I mean I'm not saying that I _wouldn't_ have gotten into trouble even if I'd had a sword but I know I could've held my own better with something more proper than this dress and a harp and-"

At this point Zelda starts making a few gulping noises and decides to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths through her nose instead. She's not panicking. She's _not_. It would be silly, because she always _knew_ there would be a big, exotic, exciting surface world below the clouds. And she's _right_ and this'll teach Karane to laugh at her. It doesn't even matter that in her mind she always pictured it with herself and Link exploring hand-in-hand at their leisure with their Loftwings and their swords and fewer monsters.

Impa has finished breaking her shackles when Zelda opens her eyes again, and she takes Zelda's elbow and gently raises her to her feet. Zelda smiles, rubbing distractedly at her wrists and wiping her sweaty bangs off her forehead.

"I'm fine," she says. "I'm fine now, sorry."

Impa looks her over, head to toe. The first thing she says to Zelda, with a smile of her own, is: "I'm glad to see you safe, Your Grace. I regret that I was too late to guide you to the Skyview Spring and only caught up with you now. I failed to anticipate that demon's meddling."

Her mouth thins into a hard line, and Zelda wants to tell her that it's okay, look everything turned out fine didn't it, she hasn't been eaten by monsters yet, and also her name's Zelda, not Your Grace, even if she _is_ Hylia. Zelda opens her mouth to say these things, but Impa adds:

"You have not yet regained all the memories of your former life. I am not the chosen hero, but a servant of Your Grace, Impa. I did see him on the volcano, however. Come, we should put this place behind us and continue to the Earth Spring."

Zelda bows her head, squeezing the harp in her hands. "You're right," she says, nodding. "We should hurry. I need to remember what I have to do to stop the Demon King. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can go back home."

She takes a deep breath, and swallows down the homesickness, and smiles again. "I'm Zelda, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Impa. I mean, again I guess, in this life."

"Likewise," Impa says, and then she heads up the path leading deeper into the temple, to the hidden spring.

Zelda follows after her. The bridge slopes steeply upward over the lava flows. The fancy sandals the old woman gave her-the ones she's supposed to wear as Hylia, instead of her own boots, and after Zelda was so proud of the clothes she'd designed to wear as the goddess in the Wing Ceremony!-don't have much traction on the smooth stone. And Zelda can feel all the dirt and grit and sweat caught in the sandals under her toes.

She follows along envying Impa for her height and her long legs and her more appropriate outfit, even if the embellishments on it are strange.

"You said you saw the hero?" she asks, to distract herself from the unfairness of it all.

"Yes," Impa says. She doesn't look back and she doesn't sound out of breath at all. Zelda thought she was a pretty fit student at the Academy, but they don't have _heat_ like this in Skyloft that's almost too thick and suffocating to breathe. "A young man in a green tunic. I like what I saw in him. He has a kind face."

"Oh."

A green tunic. Zelda feels something terrible in her stomach, something she doesn't want to let escape into the daylight where it might become _real_. She pushes herself to catch up to Impa, snagging Impa's hand in her sweaty one.

"That hero," she says, "better hurry. He better not fall behind. Because Link's probably following along behind us too, you know."

Zelda can feel herself starting to lose it, but she's had a long week and she's a goddess reincarnated and she can't be bothered to struggle to compose herself. Maybe it's the kind of crying where she'll feel better afterwards, emotionally, even though her face will be gross and her nose will be all stuffed up and it'll make climbing around in the volcano more difficult than ever. She clings to Impa's hand and tucks her head down as she sniffs.

"Link was right there when I got caught up in that whirlwind. He saw it all, and he's so-he just graduated to his senior year. He's going to be a knight now. He'll think that he should come down here to make sure I'm okay. And I stupidly told him everything, about the Surface being real, and now he'll just keep pushing until he figures out some way below the clouds and he'll follow me and-" Zelda squeezes her eyes shut and sniffs again, mightily. "I don't want him to get tangled up in all of this. I don't want to put Link in danger. So-so that hero better hurry up and get here first before Link stumbles into all this."

Impa looks down at Zelda's fingers in hers.

Hylia may be good and kind and compassionate, Impa knows, but humanity was never one of the goddess' strong points. She is sure that the boy in the green tunic-the weapon the goddess plans to wield to end her war-whoever he is, he must have come from the humans that Her Grace sent into the sky. It's more than likely that he is someone Zelda knows, someone Zelda has grown up knowing in this human life.

Impa is a human too, though. So she says none of these things. Instead she wraps both her hands around Zelda's, and lets the girl squeeze her fingers until Impa can feel the nails biting into her skin.

"I have complete faith in the chosen hero," Impa says. "And I know he will triumph and all will be well. So we must do our part not let him down either."

Zelda nods, riding out the tears. She's right, of course. And besides, Zelda really needs to wash her face in the Earth Spring, now more than ever.

She keeps a tight hold on Impa's hand, even as she reaches out to open the sacred door. But Zelda's determination is unyielding as a god's behind her wavering voice as she says, "Let's go, then."


End file.
